I did some revisions.

"This is your fault Clarke." Her father stood before her in the floating chamber, staring back at her stoically. He wore his stiff gray uniform and his scuffed face had a pale pallor, and his movements were slow and thick, as if he were already dead.

"Dad no!" Clarke cried. She pounded her fist again and again against the unforgiving glass, yelling at her father. "Please dont do this!" Her hands beat the viewing window repeatedly, sounding like war drums. Her knuckles split at the seams and left trails of blood running down the glass. They smudged and grew the more Clarke pleaded.

"Its already done." Her father stared stoically at Clarke. "Goodbye Princess."

"No!" Clarke screamed, tears streaming down her face. It was too late. Her father unceremoniously pushed the button to send himself off into the abyss, never to see her again. Clarke fell to her knees with a thud, sinking to the ground in despair as she screamed and screamed…

Suddenly, the room changed and she was kneeling in front of the Chancellor and her mother. They held hands loosely and kept giving the other meaningful glances. They only paused to glare at Clarke harshly. Their gaze penetrated her soul, and ate away at her sanity.

"This is your fault Clarke." They said together. They turned around to gesture at the screens behind them, filled with images of people in various states of decay. "These people are dead because of you."

"No." Clarke gasped. "Please!"

"These people wasted their lives. Their sacrifice is for nothing." Her mother and Jaha moved to place their intertwined hands on a button on the control panel.

Tears blurred Clarke's vision. "Please," she pleaded. "Dont do this"

"Its already done," They echoed. "You killed these people." Together they pushed the button to float the 300 people who gave their lives for the Ark. Their gaze shifted to Clarke, on her knees sobbing.

"Your next."

Clarke woke when a piercing scream broke through the air. It took her a moment to find out it was hers. Her scream broke off into sobbs as she lay on a bunk in her makeshift medical hugged her chest as her sobbs wracked her body and sent tremors down her gasped in air and rolled onto her side to choke up her dinner. Even night after night, the nightmare was still terrifying. Her crying into the night echoed against the steel interior of the drop ship, making it seem like there were three Clarkes in the room. Eventually, her crying quieted down into a soft whimper.

Take a walk Clarke, is what her father always said when she was upset. Soon you'll forget all about it.

Clarke got out of bed and put on her boots.

Clarke excited the drop ship with a shiver and a sigh. The nights had been getting colder and colder, and she could see her breath underneath the pale shine of the full moon. She wished she had a jacket or a warm coat to put on as she walked and rubbed her hands together. Clarke slowly moved around camp, observing the tents and temporary homes the campers had built together. They all surprised one another at their resourcefulness in the days after the landing. Even kids who had never even picked up a hammer and nails had managed to build a solid structure to take shelter in. They used what was left of the drop ship parachute and various other materials from the ground. Nothing was wasted or forgotten any more. Resources were precious. Everything was recycled into a new purpose after the previous one timed out.

Clarke stopped and paused at the best looking tent, and the biggest. Of course Bellamy Blake would have the most impressive tent. He was unfortunately superior to the rest of the camp in every way imaginable. He was older, stronger, and more resourceful. Of course, he was the leader of the rag-tag group of teens. He shot into action the day they landed, guiding the young delinquents as they stumbled around in confusion like newborns.

In a way, everyone was a newborn. They were new to the world they inhabited. They were generally completely clueless in their everyday lives, and depended on each other to survive. The people naturally gravitated to Bellamy, the seemingly natural born leader and visionary. He molded the people into what they were today.

Whether that was a good thing or bad,Clarke had yet to find out.

Clarke moved and carefully stepped inside Bellamy's tent and peeked at the sleeping form. His bare chest rode and fell in a perfect rhythm, and a frown marred his features. He was sprawled out on one side of his mattress, leaving just enough space for one person to fit beside him.

Clarke smirked. Tonight was probably the only night he couldn't get lucky. There was usually a whole train of girls waiting to enter his domain.

Clarke couldn't blame them. Even she couldn't deny the obvious beauty Bellamy Blake radiated. His eyes held untold secrets of mystery and adventure. His arms were built up and muscular from his time in the guard service. Even his hair, which seemed to always be messy and disheveled, never looked out of place.

Clarke turned to exit the tent when something caught her eye. A beam of moonlight fell perfectly from a hole in the tent to land on a folded piece of paper on a table,nestled in a corner. Clarke took a step forward and looked closer at the paper. MT. Whether National Base was in heavy font on the cover.

Clarke mentally slapped her forehead. She gave the map to Bellamy over a week ago to study and go over possible routes to get to the much needed supplies. He had said nothing to her about it since, most likely forgotten under the charm of a pretty girl.

Clarke took another tempting step forward. She might as well look over the map herself since he obviously wasn't going to do it. She carefully eyed Bellamy's sleeping form as she walked toward the diagram. One leg was sticking out haphazardly, threatening to fatally trip Clarke. If Bellamy woke up when she was in here, she would never hear the end of it. Clarke breathed evenly and deep as she ventured forth into unregulated territory.

The map was now just within reach. Just a few more steps and she would have it! Clarke eagerly closed the space between her and the precious paper.

Which was her big mistake.

In her eagerness to grasp the paper, Clarke had forgotten to watch her feet. She tumbled noisily over a stump Bellamy had been using as a chair and crashed onto Bellamy with force. She landed with a hard slap on his chest, banging her chin on his forehead.

Bellamy was awake in an instant. Thinking he was being attacked, he whipped over Clarke in a flash,reaching for a knife he kept beside his bed and held it dangerously close to her throat. Clarke let out a choked gasp and froze under Bellamy's weight, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"Clarke?!" Bellamy cried. He instantly dropped his knife and propped himself up on his elbows, held over her head. Clarke let out a breath as his weight was removed. "What the hell are you doing?" He shouted. "I could've killed you."

"Ya, thanks for not doing that." Clarke huffed. "Could you get off me now?"

Bellamy obliged and sat up beside his intruder slowly. Clarke gratefully nodded and rubbed her sore neck. "Do you treat all your guests like that?"

Bellamy hide a smile. "No. Usually the welcome mat doesn't involve clothes, though it does involve the bed so I guess we're halfway there."

Clarke narrowed her eyes. "Nice."

Bellamy shrugged. "You asked." He looked closer at Clarke. Her red rimmed eyes and shaky hands made him curious. He looked back up and met her eyes. "Why are you in my tent Princess?"

Clarke stiffened and shot a glance at her map. "I wanted my map back." she confessed.

Bellamy grunted. "What if I'm not done looking at it?" He challenged.

"I dont care." Clarke sassed. "You've had it for over a week! Its still lying in the same place I left it when I dropped it off!"

"I've been busy."

"Clearly" Clarke scoffed.

"I have been." Bellamy said, reaching over Clarke to grasp the map quickly.

"Hey!" Clarke made a move to take the map from his hand, but was too slow. Bellamy already tucked the paper into the waistband of his underwear, with a corner sticking out the top. He shot Clarke a smug look and laid back onto his bed. He looked like the picture of ease with his hands behind his back and a smile on his face.

"Give it back." Clarke said slowly.

"Did you say something Princess?" Yawned Bellamy. He then pretended to snore loudly and ignore Clarke.

"Bellamy seriously?" Clarke sighed, eyeing the paper. It once again was so close. Clarke tensed and looked Bellamy over, skimming around his naked chest. His eyes were closed and his hands were behind his head. A thought popped into her head.

She lunged.

She quickly grabbed the corner of the map and ripped it out from under his waistband and leaped toward the entrance. She didn't get very far before hands grasped her tightly around the waist and dragged her back to Bellamy. She landed with a heavy "Oof!" and a scowl.

"You're not very good at this Princess." Bellamy leaned down and breathed in her ear. "Maybe you need some lessons."

Clarke groaned and dropped her diagram in defeat, though Bellamy didn't offer her reprieve by getting off of her. He instead gazed confusedly into her eyes and waited.

Clarke raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Bellamy shook his head. "What are you even doing out of bed?"

"I was taking a walk." Clarke growled. 'It's none of your business! Why do you care?"

"Why would you take a walk in the middle of the night Princess?" Bellamy pushed. "You know how dangerous it is."

"You only remind me of it every day Bellamy, I know the risks of being alive." Clarke muttered while she rolled her eyes.

Clarke definitely knew the risks. On Earth, everything you did was dangerous. Taking a bath was dangerous. Getting food was dangerous. Even washing your clothes had risks. Every move you take on Earth had to be carefully thought out and planned, because if you didn't, you would be dead in the morning.

Bellamy stayed silent and stared down Clarke. He knew she was lying. She was doing that eyebrow twitch thing she did when she was telling a fib. She was avoiding the question and getting defensive. Bellamy silently rolled off her body and laid next to her carefully, the blankets and bed rustling as he moved. He put his head in his hands and waited patiently.

"I had a nightmare, okay?" Clarke mumbled. "It woke me up and I needed to get some air."

Bellamy nodded. So I'm not the only one with nightmares. "Tell me about it." He said softly.

"No." Clarke said firmly.

"Clarke." Bellamy whispered. "Talking will help." I know from experience.

Clarke sighed. She tried not to be hyper aware of Bellamy's body just a few inches away from hers as she debated with herself. His hands lay loosely under his head as he gazed softly into her eyes, waiting for her to continue. He only had on a baggy pair of undershorts and some woolen socks that were military issued.

He was being very distracting.

"It was nothing. It was just a nightmare that I have regularly." Clarke finally whispered. The night was silent as death. No trees were rustling, no insects humming. It was suddenly to quiet and Clarke didn't want to disturb the quietness and peace of the dead of night. "I dream that I'm back on the ark." She continued. "My dad is in the floating chamber. He tells me that its my fault-" Her voice breaks suddenly. It was her fault. She was the one who told Wells of his betrayal. He made her promise not to tell a soul of his deception and she let him down.

Bellamy suddenly pulled her into him. He set her flush against his chest and rubbed her arms soothingly. "It wasn't your fault Clarke. That was totally out of your control." He said comfortingly. His voice is like milk and honey to Carke's ears. It was deep and full of emotion, and flowed into her brain like a drug. Against her better judgement, she let herself sink into him wholly. She laid her head down on his chest and tangled her arms around his body. It just felt so good. She was vulnerable and weak and she wasn't thinking straight. She didn't care. She needed someone to hold on to and Bellamy Blake was offering.

"Go to sleep Clarke." Bellamy whispered. "I'll be here when you wake up. You're safe here."

Clarke nodded as a single tear shed itself and traveled down her nose. That would be the last tear she would ever cry over the death of her father.

"Sing to me." She pleaded.

Bellamy thought for a moment. He did know one song. Bellamy lightly kissed Clarke's head before beginning his lullaby. His voice was low and deep, and Clarke fell asleep as quickly as she had woken up. Still, Bellamy sang to her even after she closed her eyes and continued her slumber. It was the song his mother used to sing him, and it was the song he sang Octavia every night before she fell asleep. Then, as the sun rose and sparkled in the East, waking the deer and the bear and the raccoon, the Rebels song ended and the pair slept comfortably in each others arms, each dreaming of the other.

Thank you for reading! Please RandR!

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